


Territorial

by WhoopsOK



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Biting, College, Dom/sub Undertones, Kinktober 2018, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mild Painplay, Mild S&M, Naked Male Clothed Male, Reunited and It Feels So Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: "The tattoo isn’t an offence. It’s a part of Ronan and while he finds some parts more tedious than others, Adam loves all of Ronan’s parts. But in this moment, it doesn’t seem quite fair that Ronan is bearing only the mark of a stranger on his back, beautiful though it is."(Adam Parrish is not used to having things and Ronan Lynch fancies decoration.)





	Territorial

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 6: Biting

Adam is half asleep and defends his words thusly.

It’s a four five drive between the Dorms and the Barns, one Adam makes almost immediately after finishing his last final. He’d been wired on so much coffee he could feel his heart beat in his _eyes_ , but he wasn’t going to waste a single day of his break away from his family. By the time he parks in the driveway and sees Ronan and Opal on the porch, he’s so relieved it’s like the caffeine leaves him all at once. He’s fit to fall asleep on his feet, the weight of his nearly empty duffle bag pulling him lopsided.

Opal greets him by sticking her nose in his stomach as he ruffles her hair, knocking loose bits of hay.

Ronan greets him by telling him he looks like shit and smells almost as bad and kissing him like he’d forgotten how to breathe without Adam’s lips on his.

Though Adam wouldn’t say he’s touch starved at college, he is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to drop out just so he can touch them every day, just like this. He decides it’s probably for the best that he not make any decisions like that before he showers and gets a full, blessed eight hours of rest. Even just showering in the house is warming to the spirit, though he passes through the whole process like a zombie. Ronan is the shiny, sharp thing that catches his murky attention when he staggers into the bedroom.

Ronan is always hard to ignore, but especially when shirtless and looking absently out the window, waiting for Adam to go to sleep. _God,_ Adam has missed him.

Over the course of their relationship, Adam has had time to examine just about every part of Ronan’s body, has gone through obsessing over them in cyclical phases he doubts will ever end. Tonight, it’s the tattoo that catches Adam’s attention. Sitting down on the bed, Adam runs his fingers over Ronan’s back before dropping his forehead to his shoulder. “Makes me wanna bite you,” he says out of the clear blue.

“Makes you _what?_ ” Ronan scoffs, turning over to face him.

“Dunno. Wanna mark you myself, I guess.” Adam drags his fingers along the ends of the tattoo that just barely creep around Ronan’s ribs. “Adam was here, Adam’s comin’ back.” Sliding forward so he’s pressed all along Ronan’s side, he kisses Ronan’s collar bone. “This belongs to Adam.”

For a long time, Ronan doesn’t respond to that, long enough that Adam has dropped his head onto Ronan’s chest, already mostly asleep. Only then Ronan finally manages to murmur, “Go to sleep, Parrish.” Adam is too tired to say something snarky in response, so he does just that.

It isn’t even until later into the next day—after spending the morning doing farm work and waving flies away from their lunch on the porch—that Adam even remembers he said it.

Mostly, he remembers because Ronan side-eyes him and smirks, “So you wanna bite me?”

Adam nearly chokes on his cola, flushes red. “Don’t mock me. I—”

“Who’s mocking?” Ronan says, still smirking, but turning his gaze away, a motion that almost passes for absently watching the herd. The motion gives Adam pause more than the words themself. They don’t do much talking around the point, especially not this far into it, but that doesn’t mean they always say things outright. The fact that Ronan is even _teasing_ at this not being a joke—Adam feels something go liquid and hot in his chest, stirred by his heartbeat.

“Ronan?” is all he says, because it’s the best question he can think to ask.

Less than the span of two breaths later, Ronan answers him by kissing the breath right out of his lungs. Adam is leaned back on his elbows and half-hard by the time he remembers that he even wanted anything else. Sinking his teeth into Ronan’s lip makes the other man shudder all the way down his body where he’s leaning over Adam. Then he’s hauling Adam up, marching him back into the house.

Adam goes stumbling backwards, trusting Ronan to keep him upright as he kisses across his cheek to take his earlobe between his teeth. It makes Ronan’s hands flinch tighter on his arms, which is probably for the best when Adam loses his footing on the stairs. He sneers when that makes Ronan snort at him, turning and dragging him all the way to the bedroom. Ronan goes down on the bed agreeably, eyes getting hazy with arousal, but not enough to wipe the smirk off his mouth. So Adam leans down to bite at his cheek, nipping his smile line until it flattens, Ronan turning back to claim his lips.

While Ronan isn’t exactly known for his patience, he’s incredibly indulgent—if annoyingly amused—as Adam gently scrapes his teeth up Ronan’s jaw. There’s a slight tremor that passes through him as Adam tickles his ear with his teeth before moving down to suck the hinge of his jaw. It’s ingrained in him to do so gently, because as shameless as Ronan is, Adam generally doesn’t send him out into the world with hickies, not with him walking around in tank tops. Still, the impulse to bite down hard enough to make sure everyone knows Ronan is taken, to stake his claim all over Ronan’s neck comes surging back from last night, no exhaustion to dampen it. Adam doesn’t want to bite, he wants to _sink his teeth in_ , like an animal, like he’s never letting go, because he’s not.

Just as he draws the breath to ask that, Ronan fists a hand in his hair before he can gather the words. “I don’t care who sees” he says and, abruptly, Adam doesn’t either.

Hissing as Adam bites down as hard as he dares, Ronan swears, presses his jaw up towards Adam’s mouth, trying to lessen his grip or asking for more, Adam doesn’t know. Releasing him, Adam doesn’t move away, just runs the tip of his tongue over the ridges his teeth have left in Ronan’s skin.

Even being The Magician, Adam has never felt a power so natural take over him.

“ _Shit,_ ” he says against Ronan’s throat before moving down to his shoulder.

At the crook of his neck and shoulder, Adam makes Ronan’s hips lift up off the bed to meet his. On the knob of his shoulder, Ronan tenses all over and digs his fingers into Adam’s back, breathing through his teeth. The collarbones—both of them—make him string out swear after swear and restlessly shift his legs. Adam pulls back to look at him, sees the bright blush riding high on his cheeks before his startled, blown-wide eyes steal the show, staring at Adam like he’s new. He only barely manages to come down from that look, something like his normal snarl taking over, less effective with how hard he’s breathing, how _helplessly_ turned on he looks.

“Fuckin’ sadist,” Ronan hisses.

Adam pokes the dimpled skin of the bite on Ronan’s collarbone, watches him flinch with it. “What’s that make you?” he replies, “Too much?”

“If it gets to be too much I’ll punch you in the head,” Ronan snaps.

Adam snorts because he doesn’t doubt it, sitting back. “Shirt off. Turn over a sec.”

“Bossy,” Ronan says, but doesn’t actually hesitate to do as he’s told.

The tattoo isn’t an offence. It’s a part of Ronan and while he finds some parts more tedious than others, Adam loves all of Ronan’s parts. But in this moment, it doesn’t seem quite fair that Ronan is bearing only the mark of a stranger on his back, beautiful though it is. Adam rectifies this by setting his teeth on Ronan’s shoulder blade, humming softly in response to the low groan Ronan lets out. The red-pink beginnings of a fantastic bruise break through the blank spaces of the tattoo, a pattern Adam repeats all the way down Ronan’s back. When the waistband of his pants gets in the way, he pulls them and his boxers down. Sticking his tongue in the dimple in his lower back before scraping his teeth against it, Adam sets his hands on Ronan’s hips. Then he bites down at the top of Ronan’s ass until he writhes against the sheets, bites down on the pillow to stifle the loud, low moan he can’t stop. He’s trembling by the time Adam gets to the top of his thigh, thrilled to learn it’s a particularly sensitive spot.

Manhandling Ronan is not something easily done, nor something Adam has made a habit of, but in the moment it feels perfectly appropriate to leaver Ronan over when he’s satisfied himself with the peppering of soon-to-be-bruises springing up all around Ronan’s spine. Adam gets distracted by the way his hip moves past, leans down to bite at his side as he flops over onto his back. When the sensation of fresh bite marks against his sheets has Ronan arching up off the bed, Adam leans up to meet the motion, catching Ronan’s nipple between his teeth. Then has the interesting thought to take the whole thing into his mouth, bite down around it.

“ _Yeah, yeah_ ,” Ronan says through his teeth and rocks his hips up and it only then hits Adam that Ronan is buck naked and trying to grind his cock on Adam’s sweaty t-shirt. Something about that makes a sharp spark of arousal flare through Adam. He’s hard in his jeans, painfully so.

He doesn’t take them off.

It feels like a bit of a haze comes over him, as if nothing else matters but the way Ronan jerks and pants when Adam bites down on his ribs. He gives special attention to Ronan’s pecks, works his way across his stomach, reveling in the way the muscle jumps beneath his teeth. Back and forth, across Ronan’s torso until Ronan clenches his jaw and growls out “ _Parrish_ ” that feels close to the way some men whimper “ _Please_ ” and Adam doesn’t feel like teasing anymore. He wants to slip Ronan’s leaking cock between his lips, use his tongue to finish off what he’d started with his teeth.

“Ok,” he says and kisses the skin under his lips, smoothing his hands down Ronan’s legs, “Alright.”

“Bite there,” Ronan says tightly and Adam freezes where he’d been about to move towards Ronan’s arousal. Ronan’s legs are trembling under his palms and he’s furnace hot and it takes all Adam’s focus to pause, look up at him.

Ronan looks like savage decadence, flushed red down his chest and spotted with teeth marks, _Adam’s_ teeth marks, lips slack and parted and staring right down at him like a loaded gun and if Adam weren’t frozen in place, he’d kiss him _right fucking now_. As it stands, it’s a moment before Adam can speak, let alone move. “Where?” he asks, not moving his lips from the scant crook of space between Ronan’s cock and thigh.

“Right there, Parrish,” Ronan snarls and Adam doesn’t think about it, rewards him by biting down with more force than he might’ve otherwise.

It seems like a _genuine_ reward when Ronan keens, the back of his hand coming up to his mouth as he arches into Adam’s teeth—Adam doesn’t question that’s what he’s doing this time—his heels scrambling on the bed fitfully. “Adam, _Adam_ —”

That particular fracture in Ronan’s voice only happens with regards to one thing, so Adam brings a hand up to stroke him off without releasing his teeth. He has to lean all his weight on Ronan’s leg to keep him from bucking Adam off as he comes, letting out the sort of loud and thoughtless moan that only comes from real, mindless pleasure. Adam feels it echoing in is ribcage, nearly louder than his heart beat, _he did that for him_. When Ronan finally sags back to the bed, twitchy and boneless, Adam’s hand and mouth turn gentle, just holding him through the aftershocks.

“Fuck,” Ronan gasps breathlessly, before prying his eyes open to look at Adam. Adam isn’t quite sure what he looks like, but it makes Ronan say “ _Fuck_ ” again, a bit more emphatically, before hauling Adam up with shaky arms.

The kiss is lose and sloppy and so hot it leaves Adam whining shamelessly in his throat, so turned on he’s seconds from begging. Ronan has never been swayed by begging, is giving before Adam can ask, a hand sliding down his pants, before Ronan is thinking better of it and pushing Adam back and swallowing him down so fast his head spins with it. Adam’s hand find’s Ronan’s shoulder and Ronan moans around him, bruises aggravated, and Adam barely has time to say his name before he’s coming down Ronan’s throat.

Tasting himself off Ronan’s tongue will never cease to be a heady experience. After, they don’t really make a move to do anything, Ronan helping Adam out of the rest of his clothes and just lying there, sharing space, listening to the air conditioner and the wind chimes and each other’s breathing. The same sort of stillness they’d been enjoying before Ronan… huh.

Adam looks down at the way Ronan is pressing on the bite mark on his hip and takes a breath.

“So,” Adam begins with the lazy sort of smirk that comes easier the longer he spends with Ronan. When Ronan turns to look at him, he continues, “ _you_ want me to bite you?”

Pillow fights are not actually as sexy as TV lead Adam to believe, but they’re a lot funnier, too, even if he loses.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading…you are worthy of the most loving attention and decoration


End file.
